


Like riding a bike

by Petra



Category: Ashes to Ashes
Genre: Begging, Drunk Sex, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-28
Updated: 2010-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-10 07:37:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petra/pseuds/Petra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That's just like Alex, isn't it, to make perfect sense almost all the time except when it's really important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like riding a bike

**Author's Note:**

> Begging for Kink Bingo. Pre-read by [](http://thatyourefuse.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**thatyourefuse**](http://thatyourefuse.dreamwidth.org/).

  
"Up you come, ma'am," Shaz says, and she's not expecting the kiss, or to end up in bed with Alex. Or on, or half-off of, Alex's settee, to be specific, all zebra-crossing stripes and if she stopped to look at it, she'd go blind, but there's no time for that when Alex is right there, kissing her like Shaz has done more than help her upstairs after a right long boozer with the boys.

Better Shaz than--

Than the Guv. Probably. Because Shaz doesn't know how how he gets with women who really do give him what he wants, but Alex shouldn't have to find out the hard way. Than Ray, that's certain; he'd probably do whatever Alex let him and then brag about it all next week to everybody who'd listen, and never mind the way people'd look at Alex. They already do, when she should be DI Drake and damn untouchable.

She's more touchable than anybody else except Chris, and Chris isn't--ever--so pushy. Never ever decides to put Shaz's hand where he wants it.

And he doesn't have soft, sweet breasts, either.

Part of Shaz's memories tell her she's been missing those, though she can't quite remember when it was she got her hands on a pair other than her own.

Still, it's nice, and she doesn't have the least trouble with Alex's bra or her fiddly lace knickers.

Shaz wishes she could remember the name of the girl she went down on the first time, or where it was, or if she covered her mouth like Alex is and made little whimpery noises like she was going to cry the whole time. Cry or come, or maybe both, if everything's going well enough.

It's a pretty sound, and she hasn't heard it since--

Not the time to think about it, with her hand on Alex's hip holding up her skirt and her knees bumping up against the settee. Not the time at all when Alex gets her hand tangled in Shaz's hair and says something that isn't anybody's name at all and isn't even cursing. Maybe it isn't a word.

That's just like her, isn't it, to make perfect sense almost all the time except when it's really important.

"You okay?" Shaz asks.

Alex groans and tugs on her hair again. "Yes. I--yes--please don't stop."

Nothing ladylike there, for once. Like the times she's gone out dressed up to convince people she's for sale, except she's not, never has been.

No more than the rest of 'em, at least.

Shaz bites her lip and gives Alex her best, teasing a little until she says, "God, please," again--wherever she learned it, and why there's some bloke in her head making a joke about doing the alphabet with her tongue she doesn't know, but it's as good a trick as any of the ones she can remember learning. Somewhere.

"Oh, fuck, more," Alex says, around J, and her thighs shake next to Shaz's ears. "Please--please, like that, oh--" and she's making a muffled little sound. Covering her mouth with her hand, like anyone's there to hear except Shaz, like Shaz is going to mind that she's halfway to screaming, that she's begging for it.

If she's not screaming proper, she's going to bring the boys upstairs, at least. That's a comfort.

Enough of a comfort that Shaz can keep going--K, L, M--and give Alex a good solid suck instead of N. Get her to say, "Please," again.

"Yes, God, oh, don't stop, that's--" Alex clutches at her, holds her right there, and Shaz grins, or she'd grin if she wasn't busy.

Sometimes she worries about Alex, sure, but she's not going to have to, tonight. Not when Alex lets her hand fall, smudged with her lipstick, and lies back on the settee like she's dead drunk instead of half gone. Nobody's going to get up and go off looking for idiot Conservatives to shag in that state.

Shaz tugs Alex's skirt down a bit and gives her a little wet kiss. She's already out cold.

After a bit of a wash, Shaz lets herself out, wondering if Alex is going to remember any of that in the morning.

It's not the kind of thing you go mentioning to your gorgeous boss if she doesn't bring it up first, anyway.


End file.
